GTA San Andreas: Downfall of the Grove
by SonOfZeus500
Summary: CJ is enjoying his life in Las Venturas, until one day he comes to know that Kendl has been taken. What follows is an epic journey to get her back.
1. Chapter 1

August 13, 1996.

CJ was loving Las Venturas. The casinos, the strip clubs, the food, sex shop….oh,man. He wished he could settle there permanently. He hated to admit it, but actually he did not like Los Santos as much as LV. Sure, the Grove was there and all, but he was tired of that petty life of a gangbanger. He wished to lead a normal life, a home, a nice wife, kids, money and good friends. He'd mentioned that to Sweet, who had scoffed at him. "I knew it all long, Carl", he'd said. "You're just a soft asshole. You should have stayed in LC, doing your own shit." CJ wanted to remind him that it was because of him[CJ] that the Grove had gotten back in business, but he'd let it go. Sweet would never listen. All he cared about was the GSF. Not that CJ had anything against the Grove. It was his first home. But that didn't mean a guy had to be a gangsta all the time.

That was the reason he'd decided to take a break from LS and come to LV on a vacation. Plus, he'd wanted to meet Woozie. And, of couse, Millie. That girl seriously knew how to give a guy a good time. His body tingled with pleasure just thinking about her. It had been a good change of atmosphere…..until today.

He had just spent a good time at The Strip Club, throwing money at the strippers and enjoying the private dances. Earlier in the day, he'd been at the Four Dragons Casino, checking out the brisk business it was doing. He liked that, because that meant greater profits for him, as he was the co-owner[long story]. Anyway, he was just walking across the parking lot to his car after spending most of the day at the Strip Club, when he noticed a small sheet of paper taped on the windshield. A parking ticket, maybe? He doubted it. He plucked of the sheet and turned it over. It wasn't a parking ticket. It was a neatly typed note in red ink. "_Carl Johnson__"_ the note read. "_We have your sister. Follow the__instructions carefully if you wish to see her alive again.__Come to El Castillo del Diablo. To the pit containing the , at half past midnight. Bring your sister's boyfriend. Nobody else. And don't even think of the police if you want your sister to live. I'll be waiting. Bring this note with you"._ That was it. No name. No sign. 'Holy shit' he muttered. He wondered who the fuck was trying to mess with him. It might be a trick, he thought. But if it was not….someone was gonna pay. He decided to call Sweet and check. Just then his phone rang.

'Hello?' CJ said.

'Hello, Carl Johnson', a deep and somewhat vaguely familiar voice said.

'Who's this?'

'Not important, Carl. I see you've read the note.'

'How the fuck do you know?' CJ questioned. 'Who are you?' He looked around, as if hoping to see a freak with a gun in his hand looking at him. But he only saw the people of LV revelling in their nightlife.

The voice chuckled softly. 'Too many questions can land you in trouble, Carl. As the note says, I'll be waiting to meet you. You will know who I am.'

Carl couldn't think who this punk could be. The voice sounded like an ordinary, easy going college boy's voice. 'Where's Kendl?' he asked. 'What have you done to her?' His voice almost choked at the thought of some fucking dog hurting her.

'Your sister?' the voice said. 'She has not been harmed until now. Though things might change if you don't comply with us' The voice burst out into a devilish laugh.

CJ trembled with rage. He didn't like anybody threatening his sister. 'Listen, prick', he said, his tone cold with anger. 'I am going to come to that little meeting place of yours tomorrow. I'm going to bust your skull in.'

'That's the spirit!' the voice said, still chuckling. 'Goodbye, Carl! Sweet dreams!' There was a click, indicating that the caller had hung up. CJ was so angry he couldn't think straight. Most frustrating was the fact that he didn't know who this miserable fucker was. And supposedly he had his sister somewhere. He wondered from where the caller had got his number from. The caller had almost sounded like a guy in his early 20's. Or younger. Maybe the same age when CJ had come to LS after 5 years in LC. His train of thought was broken by the ringing of his phone.

Instantly, he thought it must be the mysterious caller again. He decided to mouth him of this time.

'Stop it, you snake!' he yelled into the phone. 'Fuck you!'

'Holmes?', a familiar thin, almost whiny voice said. 'It's Cesar, man.'

CJ's face turned red. 'Sorry man. I thought you was the kidnapper.'

'Kidnapper?' Cesar asked. 'Something about…..Kendl?' he said, choking back a sob. 'Oh man, I don't know what to do…..'

'Yeah' CJ said. He explained Cesar about the note and the kidnapper's call.

'If that motherfucker has even touched her…' He was so angry he couldn't find the right words.

'He'll pay' CJ finished for him.

'The shit looks serious, holmes. No street gangbanger would dare to pull this off against the Grove.'

'Has to be a big organisation' CJ said thoughtfully. 'Say, Cesar, were you with Kendl when she was….you know.'

'Yeah. I was with her.' Cesar sounded embarrassed. 'She wanted to shop for something. I think a dress, maybe. Never told me what it was. Anyway, we were just on the way, on Jefferson, when this guy runs up to us at the red light.'

'Go on' CJ said.

'He was quite a youngster, maybe in his teens.' Cesar continued. ' He was sobbing horribly, man. He pointed to a group of big shady looking guys who were running away. Said they'd stolen something from him. Don't remember what it was. I thought something was fishy about the whole business and told the guy to fuck off. But Kendl….you know how she is, CJ. She yelled at me for being so cruel and told me to chase the men.'

CJ took a deep breath. He didn't like where this was going. 'Then what happened?' he asked.

'Well, I gave in to her. She insisted on coming with me. We both ran after the guys. They were a group of three, and ran faster after spotting us. I was so caught up in the chase I threw caution to the winds and followed them like a blind fool straight to an abandoned alley.'

Cesar sighed and continued. 'It was a trap, CJ. Before we realised what was happening, we had been surrounded. There must have been a dozen guys. I went for my gun, but then something hard slammed into the back of my head and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in Glen Park. I am a failure.' He finished miserably.

'Don't blame yourself, man.' CJ said comfortingly. 'It wasn't your fault. Now tell me, did you hear them say anything before you blacked out?'

There was a moment's silence. Then Cesar said, 'I remember something. I think one of them said, "Spare the boy. The boss only needs the girl." Or something like that. After that I'm pretty sure there was some shouting. Maybe an argument.'

CJ didn't like this. 'So Kendl was taken.' He grimaced. 'And now she's a prisoner somewhere.'

An uncomfortable silence. 'Well, I think I should come over to LV right now. The note said both of us have to go.'

'That'll be cool' CJ said. I'll arrange for your stay. I know the perfect place. I'll meet you at the airport in two hours, if you are taking the flight half-an-hour from now.' Then he suddenly had a thought. 'What 'bout Sweet?' he asked.

'Sweet's taken some homies and gone' Cesar said. 'To find Kendl. He vowed he wouldn't come back till he found her'.

'Oh, man. A'right, see you' CJ said.

'Yeah, holmes. I'll be there' Cesar hung up.

As CJ drove back to The Four Dragons casino, he couldn't help thinking that he had heard the kidnapper's voice before.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

NOTE: This story is not related to the storyline followed in GTA: Liberty City Stories.

* * *

CJ scanned the Terminal 1 of Las Venturas International airport for Cesar. He'd been waiting for about fifteen minutes due to delay in the arrival of Cesar's flight. Which was nothing new in Las Venturas. It was common knowledge that flights always got delayed, mainly because of the treacherous fog that hung over San Fierro and sometimes spread over to Las Venturas.

All around him was the usual commotion of any international airport. People jostled each other about, steering trolleys through the crowd. There were the usual occasional loud greetings and exclamations as people welcomed their loved ones: "Oh, honey, I missed you!", "Dad, you're back!" and so on. And people saying their goodbyes: "See you soon!", "Happy journey!" The continuous announcements added to the general hustle bustle of the place. In short, it was easy to get lost in here.

The next moment a few words from the hubbub caught CJ's attention.

"The package...we don't want attention". The accent was somewhat Mexican, with a dash of Italian.

CJ looked behind him. He saw two guys huddled together near a couple of doors, away from the commotion. One was beefier, with a mop of dark hair and bushy sideburns. He had a long, thin scar running down from his left eyebrow to the base of his left ear. CJ winced. That had to hurt.

The other guy was shorter and skinnier. He was completely bald, with large owl like glasses which gave him a clown like look.

Both wore orange hoodies with crests over the breast pocket that read 'Maintenance Staff' in black lettering. Nobody paid them any attention.

CJ watched as Scar Guy took out a short square box done in brown paper wrapping. He said something to Clown Guy. Suddenly CJ found himself looking directly into Scar Guy's eyes. They were startlingly blue with a cold expression. An involuntary chill went down CJ's spine. This guy looked more like a murderer than a cleaning staff member.

Then things happened fast. Scar Guy grabbed Clown Guy by the shoulders and propelled him through the door marked 'Maintenance Area- Staff Only', shutting it behind him.

CJ couldn't help thinking something was fishy. Why had Scar Guy suddenly stopped talking as soon as he spotted him? What was that box? Drugs? Bomb? Why had they run away?

He felt as if he had to find out what the fuck was going on. But Cesar….. for a moment, he hesitated. Then he decided to follow them.

A moment later he shut the Maintenance door behind him. He was surprised it had opened. He couldn't help thinking Scar Guy might have purposely left it open. Maybe it was a trap…..

He was in a narrow corridor lit by dim yellow overhead lights. It was just enough for him to make out that the passage was completely bare. Senses on high alert, he made his way through the passage, expecting someone to burst out of one of the corners with a yell and take him down. But nothing happened.

He kept on following the passage, which turned continuously, straining his ears for any sound. But he heard nothing. After some time he reached an intersection. The passage went down on his left and ended in another door marked 'Maintenance'. To his right, it ended in a door marked 'Exit'. From his left came the sounds of people and machines at work. To his right was utter silence. He decided to try the Exit door.

As he neared the door, he heard the distinctive 'clang' of metal falling on the ground. Excited, he twisted the knob and stepped through cautiously.

The stench of rotten food hit his nose. He was at the back of the airport, which was apparently deserted. The only things he could make out in the fast fading twilight were a few trash cans.

Thinking he heard voices, he crouched behind the cans and started creeping around them. If he could only see what those guys were doing…

"And what are you doing, eh?" a gruff voice said behind him.

CJ was so startled he nearly banged his head on a can. Before he could see who it was, something hard slammed into his back. He pitched forward, nearly scraping his face on the rough ground. He tried to get up, but was again hit by something hard, this time on the back of his head.

Pain washed over him. His head swam, and his vision went blurry. He heard the voice saying, "This will teach you not to meddle". Then he blacked out.

* * *

Cesar wished for the millionth time that he could live a peaceful life. Ever since he had got to know CJ, he had been involved in one mess after the other. Jacking a truck on a freeway, informing CJ about betrayals and whatnot. It was like riding a super-fast roller coaster. And now, Kendl had been taken.

As if that hadn't been enough, he'd made it to LV in one piece, only to find out that CJ was in the hospital out cold. The airport security had told him he'd been found at the very back of the airport among trash cans, out from a blow apparently from a blunt object.

Yeah, definitely normal.

Now, as he paced outside the medical ward, he wondered who the fuck would they meet tonight. He had no idea. Not that it mattered. He was ready to fight anyone, if it meant getting Kendl back. He silently vowed to himself not to go back to Los Santos until he found Kendl. What if something had already happened to her…?

"Ready to go, man?" CJ's voice broke into his thoughts. He hadn't even noticed him come up.

Cesar smiled, happy to see him. "You feeling okay, holmes? I heard you got knocked out" he said.

CJ looked embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm cool. Just a little bump. Come on, I'll show you your digs"

As they walked to the parking lot, CJ realised he had acted like a fool. Now he was sure those guys must have been a part of a drug racket. He'd gone and got himself knocked out like a kid. He wondered whether Sweet was right after all. Maybe he really wasn't cut out for a gangsta. Maybe he should never go back to the Grove….

"Hey, CJ? Earth to CJ. Man, you are a million miles away" Cesar was saying. CJ saw that they'd already reached his car.

"This thing is sweet, holmes. Must have cost you" Cesar commented on his shiny red Cheetah.

That cheered CJ up a bit. "Yeah, it's cool. You get what you pay for"

Ten minutes later they were speeding towards the Four Dragons Casino. CJ worried about his sister, Sweet and the Grove. Cesar seemed to busy taking in the sights and sounds of Las Venturas.

"Man, this place is swanky" Cesar said, noticing the neon-theme of the casinos, the stars walking around and the beat of music that filed the night air. He almost forgot about the reason why he was here. Almost.

"That's all cool. But you remember we have work to do" CJ said.

"Of course, holmes. That's what I'm here for. We'll get her back, no matter what happens."

"Yeah"

CJ pulled into the parking lot of the casino, which was chock full of cars as usual. For some reason, that always cheered him up.

"Come on" he said, getting out of the car. "I'm going to show you the best place on earth"

The big neon sign 'Four Dragons Casino' greeted them as they walked up to the entrance. Cesar recognized BigG, the upcoming rapper, arm-in-arm with a smokin' hot blonde, whom he presumed to his girlfriend. As they walked into the Casino, it was as if they'd entered a different world.

For starters, the place was huge. Slot machines, roulette and poker tables and wheels of fortune were all around. A little way to the right was a bar, flanked by little restaurants and a dining area in the middle. People in tuxedos and suits drank and played, some arm-in-arm with elegant looking ladies. Little old ladies sat around the slot machines, feeding nickel coins to them. The younger men hung around the blackjack, roulette and poker tables. The dealers did their jobs quickly, handing out the chips. Some of the tables had a minimum as high as $10000 for one pile of chips. Bouncers walked about, keeping an eye on things. Cross The Tracks by Maceo and the Macks blared from speakers, adding to the noise of conversations there.

Typical Las Venturas.

"Welcome to the Four Dragons Casino! The best in the city!" greeted a voice with a heavy Chinese accent.

Cesar hadn't even noticed the short man in black suit piece come up to them. His features were distinctly Chinese and he had thinning grey hair with streaks of white around the temples. A tag on his breast pocket read, 'Manager'. With him were two heavily muscled guys in tight grey suits. Bouncers.

"I'm Shen Wei, the manager of this casino. Nice to see you again, Mr. Johnson" the small man said, extending his hand to CJ, who shook it. "And this is….?" he asked, looking curiously at Cesar.

"He's Cesar. A friend of mine from Los Santos" CJ jumped in.

Mr. Shen smiled. "Los Santos, eh? Pretty sunny place, I've heard. But no match for Venturas!" he laughed, now extending his hand to Cesar.

"Yeah, I have to admit, this place is cool" Cesar replied, shaking hands with him.

"So? Want to stay? We got pretty nice rooms" he said, noticing Cesar's briefcase.

"Thanks, Mr. Shen. I'll take it from here" CJ said. "I think I'll be able to show him a good place"

"Sure, Mr. Johnson. After all, you are the boss here". Mr. Shen said. Then he winked at Cesar and disappeared into the crowd. The bouncers went back to their patrol.

Cesar glanced curiously at CJ. " 'You are the boss here'". "What was that all about, man?"

CJ couldn't help smiling. "It's like this, man. I am a co-owner of this casino. Long story"

Cesar punched him on the shoulder. "You a millionaire, holmes? Hard to believe!"

"Yeah. Even I find it so. Now come on, let's do talk about our meeting tonight"

* * *

It was quarter past eleven when CJ and Cesar headed to El Castillo. The roads weren't very crowded at this time, so it was fast going. CJ seemed to be lost in driving. Cesar stared out of the window. The truth was both of them were worried. CJ had a hunch who they would meet tonight. If it was correct, then they wouldn't have it easy.

As for Cesar, he had no idea who the kidnapper could be. CJ had told him that the voice of the kidnapper had been vaguely familiar. Maybe had had heard it before. But when and where? The more he thought, the more puzzled he became. At last he gave it up. Whoever it was, he wasn't going to back down. He'd kill to have Kendl back.

Suddenly CJ realised they weren't armed. "Shit" he muttered.

"What?" Cesar asked.

"We forgot to get guns" CJ replied. "No worries though. I know where to get them" he added, remembering that the abandoned airport was nearby.

He veered off the highway and after a few moments spotted the radio tower. Abandoned radio tower, that is. He never came to know who owned the place before him or why it had been abandoned. Toreno had introduced him to this place. That guy seemed to have a knack of finding creepy places. CJ wondered where he was these days.

"Holmes, this place is creepy, man" Cesar noted as he got out of the car and looked around.

"Sure is" CJ said. "But chill, homie. There's nobody here but us". The place was deserted as always. There wasn't a sound to be heard, except the occasional howling of the wind.

"Come on in" he continued. "Let's take some ammo and armour. Never know when you might get into a shootout"

"Good idea" Cesar replied, following him inside the tower.

After taking a micro-smg for each along with plenty of ammo and having worn the body armour, they proceeded to El Castillo. CJ knew where the pit with the body bags was. The thought of it always creeped him out. It was a fairly deep pit, about ten to twelve feet. That wasn't creepy. The creepy thing was that there were six body bags at the bottom. Whether it contained any corpses or not was anybody's guess. As if that wasn't creepy enough, there was an abandoned Bobcat pick-up truck parked at the edge, with the rear end facing the pit. Many people around the area knew about the pit's existence, some had even informed the municipality about the body bags, who had retorted it wasn't their job as it was beyond the city. The police had shrugged it off saying it wasn't their job as whoever had done the murders was long gone. They kept saying it was the municipality's job. And so the blame game had been continuing for years.

As time passed, rumours began to spread. Some said a serial killer used to roam the wilderness of Las Venturas, killing people. People said he the killer had a goal to kill a particular number of people, after which he would perform a sacrifice and gain supernatural numbers. Others said it this was all bullshit, and that the pit had been dug and body bags had been thrown in to spread fear through the city. Yet another rumour said that it had been the work of The Mafia who conducted their operations in Las Venturas in the mid-1990s. Another rumour said that the bodies were of people who had been killed while trying to enter Area 69, which was a highly protected restricted area not quite far away from the pit. Whatever the matter was, the media had certainly benefited, spreading the rumours as far as possible.

CJ wasn't scared. Hell, he was ready to fight even ghosts or zombies, only if it meant getting his sister back.

The bright headlights of the car illuminated the rusty old Bobcat in front of them. They'd reached the pit. A little way off to its right was a red Clover. A man leaned on his shoulder against the driver's door with his back to them and hands in his pockets.

CJ got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Cesar followed him out of the car.

Apparently the man had been dozing, for as soon as CJ slammed the door, the man jerked straight up with a start. He turned around and immediately shaded his eyes from the glare of the headlights. Then he blinked a few times, recovering from the sudden glare.

He wasn't anybody CJ knew.

"Alright. So you are the two, then? To speak to the boss?". He spoke slowly, as one does when he wakes from a good sleep. His accent had a distinct touch of Italian.

"Yeah. We're the ones. Where is your boss? This was supposed to be our meeting place" CJ replied.

The man blinked again. He was quite tall and well built. Wild blond hair tumbled down the sides of his head, making him look like some kind of wild outlaw. His green eyes were intense as he did a quick appraisal of CJ.

"The note" he finally said. "You show me the note"

CJ handed him the note he had got from the kidnapper. "Now, answer me: where is your fucking boss?" he asked.

The man finished reading the note. Then he tore it into pieces and tossed it into the pit. "Boss not here. Follow me. I take you to him" he replied. Then, without another word he got into his car and started it.

"Come on, holmes" Cesar called. CJ was still standing, hands clenched into fists. He looked ready to beat the shit out of someone. At Cesar's call he relaxed and climbed back into the car.

After a few moments the Clover veered off the highway and began climbing a steep.

"He's taking us up to Arco del Este" CJ said to nobody in particular.

Cesar was too busy thinking who might be waiting up there too answer him.

The man's car stopped at the flat top of the hill. The area was bare except for a few odd shacks that stood about and a night lantern placed on the ground.

CJ and Cesar got out of the car, bracing themselves for the worst.

In the dim light of the lantern, CJ saw a man sitting on a rock, smoking a cigarette. He could just make out a frayed blue suit and black khakis. The man's face was hidden in the shadows. CJ's heart beat a little faster. Those khakis seemed familiar. Could it be…..?

"Well, well, well. Here we are again, Carl" said a slurred voice. CJ knew that voice well.

"Mr. Leone? What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked.

The voice chuckled softly. Then the man rose, and the dim light illuminate his gnarled, weathered face framed by white hair which was grey in patches. It was Salvatore Leone.

"You kidnapped my sister? Why? And how are you here? I thought you'd gone back to Liberty City in 1992!" CJ continued.

"The voice, Carl. The voice. Think: was I the one who called you?" Salvatore calmly replied.

Suddenly it dawned on CJ that the kidnapper's voice on the phone had been way different. It hadn't been Salvatore. It could have been one of his men, but he was sure he had heard that voice before…..

"No, that wasn't one of my men" Salvatore said, as if reading his thoughts. "And I did not kidnap your sister"

"Then who did? Don't try to be smart with us, old man. The note said the kidnapper would meet us tonight. And YOU are here tonight. You are the kidnapper" Cesar cut in.

Salvatore looked at Cesar, his blue eyes boring into Cesar's, daring him to look away. Cesar didn't flinch. For a long moment nobody spoke. Then Salvatore broke the silence.

"Oh, I see. You are her boyfriend. Well, Cesar Vialpando, you shouldn't accuse people just like that. It can be deadly. With the emphasis on dead"

Cesar was momentarily startled. "How do you know my name? I haven't seen you before. Tell me" he demanded.

"I make it my business to know all about important people" Salvatore said. "And you are important to me. You got potential, lad. You got skills. That's why you are here tonight"

Cesar was getting annoyed at the calm way this guy spoke, as if nothing was wrong. His hand was itching to take out his gun and pump him full of holes. But something held him back.

Salvatore turned to CJ. "Carl, my man. Two years ago, as you might remember, I swore to kill you. You can forget what I said"

"Oh, really? Since when have you become Mr. Goody-Goody? I haven't come here to chat with you. I had a hunch that it'd be you. Seems like I'm glued to you for the rest of my fucking life. Tell me where my sister is. Why the fuck are you denying you took her?" he retorted.

"The matter is much more complicated. I assure you I didn't want to kidnap your sister. But this lad….he made me an irresistible offer. An offer of power!" Salvatore exclaimed, visibly delighted at the thought. "I was down in the dumps, Carl. I had given up hope of holding my empire up any longer. But this guy came up to me one day and said: 'Mr. Leone? Don't mope. You want something, I want something. If you'll help me, I'll help you'.

He continued, "Then he told me his grand plan, Carl. A plan which meant power! Grand power!". With that, he broke out in an explosion of maniacal laughter which shattered the stillness of midnight.

"So you helped him" Cesar growled, "by getting Kendl kidnapped by your men". He pulled out his gun. "I am not a patient man" he said, "so you'd better fucking tell me where she is"

"Or else you'll kill me?" Salvatore asked, finally having stopped laughing. "Boy, use your fucking brain! You can't kill me. First, because if you kill me, you'll never get your girl back. And second," he reached out behind him and pulled out something from a bag and handed it to Cesar, "focus this on that tall hill on your right. You'll know the second reason you why you can't kill me"

It was a pair of night vision goggles. Cesar put it on and focused on the hill Salvatore had pointed out. Sure enough, he could just make out the outline of a man perched on top of the hill with what seemed to be a rifle. A sniper.

Cesar realised why Salvatore had been acting so calm. One wrong move, and the sniper could have easily shot him. He hated to admit it, but he knew they wouldn't get anywhere unless they cooperated with this guy. Kendl's life depended on it. He took off the goggles and said, "Alright, you win. Who are you, anyway?"

"So at last some sense goes into your brain" Salvatore said, obviously pleased. "However, it your ignorance amazes me. You really have never heard of me? he asked.

"No"

"No! Well, I always thought I was famous. Apparently not. My name is Salvatore Leone, leader of the Leone Family, based in Liberty City. Does that ring any bells?"

Cesar had a distant memory of some guy telling him about the brutal crimes in Liberty City by a guy named Salvatore Leone. However, he hadn't expected an old guy. So he said nothing.

"Just say what you want from us. I'm ready to do anything, if it means getting my sister back" CJ said.

"That's the spirit, Carl. Your sister hasn't been hurt until now, and it'll stay that way if you cooperate. If you don't, that will change"

CJ and Cesar exchanged worried glances. They knew they had no choice other than to do whatever Salvatore wanted.

"A'right. We'll cooperate" CJ replied.

"Good, good. You see, I really didn't want your sister to be kidnapped, but my friend insisted. Well, were do I begin? Carl, you remember two years back, when you bumped that Forelli guy off on my orders?

"Yeah, I remember" CJ replied.

"That job was cursed, Carl. After about two or maybe three months, it was traced back to me. That started a chain of shitty events" Salvatore was pacing about now, getting worked up. "I don't know how it happened. Somehow they found out I had ordered Forelli's killing. The remaining members and the allies of the Forelli Family teamed up and started fucking with my organisation in LC. That was not such a big problem, as we were stronger than they and it was just random drive-by's and other shit by them. But the real trouble started when they managed to pocket Jake Randall". He cursed, then threw his cigarette down and stamped on it. Then he lit another cigarette and continued, "Jake Randall is an interesting man, Carl. He is a Private Investigator, a PI, if you'd like to call him that. This guy, from what I've heard, brought down a made man in Vice City a few years ago. People say he's got his own fucking methods with which he digs up dirt on Dons like me" he waved his arms about as he spoke.

"He also works for gangs to be bring down rival gang leaders and whatnot. They say he's fucking smarter than the feds. From what I've heard, he's been sucking up dirt in Liberty like vacuum. It's fucking annoying that the Forellis have stuck this guy on me"

He paused and looked at CJ, his face bloodless. "This guy is no pussy, Carl. And you know it takes a lot to shake me up." he blinked. "You know what, Carl? This has shaken me up. The feds know that if they can get me to stand in the dock, it'll finish my empire once for all. Something which they haven't been able to do till now. It'll finish me, Carl" he buried his head in his hands as he sat down again.

"How do you know so much about this guy? And why haven't you been able to bump this guy off yet? Where is he?" CJ questioned.

"I still have connections in the LCPD" Salvatore replied, seemingly relieved by this fact. "I know that those scumbags Forellis and others have managed to convince the FBI to go after me. So they task Randall with it. I haven't been able to bump him off. He's right here in LV. Staying in that Lil Probe Inn. Came here maybe some eight months ago. He's smart, Carl. Never goes about without his body guards. All my attempts have failed". He got up and thrust his hands into his pockets. "That's where you two come in, Carl. He doesn't know you. You've got the skill and experience of a hitman. Do me one last favour. Get the report he's made on me before he leaves for Liberty. If he gets away, I'm dead. Also, your sister depends on you. Remember this, Carl" he finished.

The sound of a car making its way up the hill got their attention.

"Who…?" Cesar began.

"Our meeting is up" Salvatore said, noticing the car. "Hope next time you'll be able to meet my friend, boys. I'm sure you'll find him an interesting person. Especially you, Carl"

The car stopped beside them. It was a Rancher. The window rolled down and the man inside called out: "Ready to leave, Mr. Leone?"

Salvatore headed towards the car. The man who had brought CJ and Cesar here suddenly appeared from the shadows.

"Why especially me?" CJ called out as Salvatore climbed inside the car.

"You'll know, Carl. All in good time" Salvatore replied. Then, turning to the driver: "Alright, all set, Jim. Let's go"

"Fuck you!" CJ yelled as the car reversed and sped down the hill, blowing up a cloud of dust. A moment later the Clover guy who had got them here started tailing the Rancher.

The only thing that remained behind was the lantern.

"Come on, holmes" Cesar said wearily, walking towards their Cheetah. "Looks like we got lots of work to do".


	3. Chapter 3

Note: There may be some typos in this chapter because I had to type the whole thing on my phone as my PC is broken. Happy Reading!

* * *

Los Santos was waking up to another beautiful morning. The sun was peeking above the ocean and the views from Santa Maria beach were wonderful. People headed to the ocean for a dip. The various shops of snacks, soveiners and other knick-knacks on the pier were opening up for business. A light mist hung in the air, making the morning sunlight shimmer. Delicious smells wafted from some of the open shops. People, greeted each other, talked and laughed. The giant ferris wheel on the pier loomed over the beach, its top lost in the mist. Just another merry morning in Los Santos.

A blue Oceanic drove slowly beside the edge of the beach, along the rail that separated it from the road. There were four people in the car: three of them wearing white vest tops with grey pants, sporting yellow bandannas on their heads. The driver wore an additional white T-shirt that said: I love LS.

The car stopped near an open-air cafe'.

"There". said the guy in the T-shirt, who was obviously the leader. He was completely bald and clean shaven, which made his face look brutish, due to scratches and a nasty old bullet wound on his right cheek, which he had got some time ago in a gunfight. He was built like a pro wrestler, bulky and heavy. His cold blue eyes made it clear: this wasn't a guy you'd want to get in a tussle with.

He was pointing at a group of four guys sitting around a patio table in front of the cafe', smoking cigarettes and talking. One of them was drinking from a bottle. All of them wore dark green sweatshirts. Two of them wore green bandannas. The other people at the cafe' seemed to be keeping a respectful distance from them.

One of the guys in the back seat pulled out an SMG. He was of stocky build, with long blond hair.

"Let's go" he said, looking around the group.

The other three pulled out similar looking SMGs. The bald guy glanced at the group of green clad guys at the cafe' again. "Motherfuckers haven't spotted us yet. Too busy enjoying life" he said with a sneer.

One of the other guys let out a laugh. "We'll take care of that" he said, fingering his weapon fondly. Let's roll".

Three of them got off the car, except the T-shirt guy.

"Hope you know what you're doing, Jim" a guy with long blond hair said.

"I never fail, ladies" Jim said. "Now, go shoot the crap outta those guys" he bobbed his head in the direction of the guys at the table. "And don't worry, your backup will arrive". With that, he floored the accelerator and roared away, leaving the three guys in a cloud of dust.

A moment later sounds of gunfire and screams filled the morning air.

* * *

Grove Street was unusually quiet. Usually there would be gangbangers milling around, smoking, drinking and talking trash. Sometimes drug dealers would come to sell their stuff. Prostitutes went around offering their services. Today just a group of four guys were standing in front of Ryder's crumbling house and talking.

The last few weeks had been tough for the GSF. Almost everyday, some or the other gang had attacked. And they'd got clever. Just a few days ago they'd lost almost a dozen members in an ambush set up by the Ballas in Idlewood.

On top of all that, Sweet had been in a terrible temper because of CJ. He cursed and swore that he would never talk to CJ again.

And then, as if things hadn't been worse already, Kendo had been taken.

CJ's sister had been kidnapped...by whom? Tenpenny was dead, so which new fucker had done this shit?

All these thoughts and questions ran through Boris Jackson's head as he leant on the fence of his front yard, looking at the cluster of houses in the Grove and the street beyond it. Now Sweet had also left in search of her. He had left Boris with a tough task: leading the Grove till he came back. Boris wondered when that would be.

Not that he was afraid or anything. He loved the Grove with all his heart and would gladly die defending it. But there was the problem: he couldn't die. Not until Sweet or CJ came back. If he died, the Grove would crumble.

Boris was probably the oldest in the Grove, if you could call a little over forty old. He had piercing black eyes, a bit of a mousetach and beard in a French-cut style, along with close-cropped black hair. He was built like a long distance runner, slender and strong.

It was tough to survive until forty. Gangbangers usually died young, in a turf war, or drug abuse, whichever came first. To normal people, It appeared as one of the worst ways to die. But for a gangster, it was a great honour: to die fighting for your gang, for your brothers. It was your only family; one great brotherhood.

Yet Boris had survived. He was a true fighter with nerves of steel, cool and calm under fire. Everyone knew that and everyone respected him for that. Even Sweet listened to him.

He still remembered the day he had left Vice City for San Andreas. He had joined the GSF as a rookie and made his way up the ranks. The one sore memory that always bugged him was his failure to save Sweet's mom. He had been lured away...

The ringing of his cellphone shook him out of his reverie.

"Hello?" he said into the phone.

"Dude!" yelled the guy on the other end. "Need backup!"

Boris could hear gunfire in the background. He also recognized the voice: it was Brandon.

"Where are you?" he asked, instantly on alert.

"Santa Maria!" Brandon replied. "Get- "

Suddenly the line went dead.

"Brandon? BRANDON!" Boris yelled. "Shit" he muttered, stuffing the phone back into his pocket.

"Charlie, Tom, get Shawn and get your butts over here!" Boris shouted at the group in front of Ryder's house as he ran for his car. "Shit's going down!".

Five minutes later Boris, Charlie 'Chucker' Westwood, Tom 'Big T' Robinson and Shawn 'Slicer' Robson were speeding towards Santa Marina beach in a red Greenwood.

The scene at the beach was of a typical gangfight: the beach itself was practically empty: no wonder, the other people had run off long ago. A few unlucky ones caught in the crossfire lay dead in the sand, blood seeping through their clothes. About five or six homies lay dead by the open-air cafe' , their bodies peppered with gunshots. On the road(which was also empty of any commuter traffic) were burnt out shells of three cars, one having charred bodies of two police officers inside it. Three or four Vagos also lay dead on the road, the blood pooling around their bodies.

The sight might have caused any normal person to faint, but not Boris. He had been seeing scenes like this all through his life.

He instantly locked on to the far end of the beach where the fight was still going on: the homies were trying to take cover behind shells of burnt out cars and snack stands on the beach, but there weren't many. There were easy targets for the Vagos, who were shooting from behind the ferris wheel and various booths of arcade games on the pier. They popped up from behind one, fired a burst, then ducked behind again. Apart from them, the pier looked deserted.

"Let's show them" Tom growled, getting out of the car.

"No, fool. Get back in. We're gonna go in with the car. That way we'll be safe: at least for a while. No need to charge in like an idiot and die." Boris said.

"Driveby"! I like driveby's" Charlie said.

Boris floored the accelerator and headed towards the pier. The car wouldn't do shit in sand. He turned left off the road. Now they were on the pier. He slowed down the car and headed towards the clump of stalls from where the Vagos were shooting the homies on the beach. The Vagos were taken by surprise. One guy spotted them coming; but before he could even aim the gun at them Boris had hung his SMG out the window and fired with deadly accuracy. The guy died on the spot.

Then all the Vagos turned and fired. The homies in the car returned fire along with Boris, yelling: "Die, Motherfuckers!"

The Vagos didn't stand a chance, because Boris's team had the advantage of the car. They had nowhere to run: to their left, the pier ended over the ocean and to their right were Boris and the other homies, shooting at anyone who tried to get out. Within minutes all the Vagos were dead, their bodies lying in growing pools of blood. Still they had put up a good fight: the car was smoking, and two of it's doors were gone.

The remaining homies on the beach cheered and ran up to them.

"Yeah! That's what we're talkin' about! Grove 4 Life!" yelled Charlie. Charlie was the clown of the gang, so to say. He always managed to get people's spirit up, even in the gloomiest of situations. He was tall and lanky, like a basketballer. He had long hair, down to his shoulders. He always wore a San Andreas cap, which reminded homies of Ryder. A clean shaven face and dark eyes completed the picture. He had an uncanny resemblance to OG Loc, save for the long hair. All said and done, he was good with the gun. Everyone responded and the pier echoed with "Grove 4 Life!"

Then the ones who had survived on the beach told Boris their story: how they'd been surprised by the Vagos and how they'd survived almost three waves before Boris had come to help.

Despite the fact that they had won, Boris wasn't happy. This was Grove Street territory and yet they'd almost been overwhelmed. If things went this way... well, he didn't want to think about it.

"Dude, you made it" Brandon said as he bumped fists with Boris. He was on the shorter side, but had the arms and chest of a boxer. He had a chiselled and long, bony face of a prizefighter. His thick bushy eyebrows and bald plate made him look like a... well, like a gangster.

The sound of a chopper made everybody look up. A San News heli hovered far above their heads. Boris knew the police wouldn't be far behind.

"Let's get the fuck out of here" Brandon said. The last thing he wanted was a fight with police. "Three of you ride with me. The rest- hotwire some cars or bikes in the parking lot and follow me. Be quick about it." He belted out orders like a drill seargent.

Charlie, Tom and another guy got into the smoking Greenwood with him. The others headed towards the parking.

'NOT SO FAST' a loud voice from a megaphone boomed. It took Boris a moment to realise that the voice was coming from the news chopper overhead.

"What the fuck?" Tom grunted.

'WE DON'T WIN, YOU WON'T EITHER' the voice said. All the homies were looking up at the chopper in shock.

Suddenly Boris saw a black ball falling from the chopper. No, not a ball...

"Get off the pier!" He yelled and put the car in reverse.

Too late.

BOOOOM!

A massive explosion rocked the pier. Their car was thrown into the air, and Boris heard a lot of screaming. For a moment everything was upside down.

The wail of sirens filled his ears.

Then the world went black.

* * *

CJ hadn't slept well in the night. He kept having nightmares: Some unknown guys strangling Sweet; Kendo being assaulted by a guy in a black coat; and Salvatore's face laughing and saying: 'Your sister, Carl. Do it if you want to see her!'. Now he was awake, thanks to the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. In a flash he remembered everything: the note, the call and the meeting with Salvatore. He glanced at the alarm clock on the chest beside the bed. It was 10:15 a.m. He leapt out of bed and shouted: "Cesar!". They had a job to do. Last night, they'd returned at about 4 a.m. and had crashed out in their suite.

"Slept well, Holmes?" Cesar asked, coming out of the bathroom. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black tank top. He was toweling his head vigorously.

CJ felt embarrassed. Cesar had already washed and dressed, and he had just woken up. He felt a twinge of anger. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded.

Cesar laughed. "Don't get angry, Holmes. I just wanted you to rest more. We need your badass skills".

That calmed CJ a bit. "Whatever" he grumbled and headed to the bathroom.

An hour later they sat at the dining table of their suite. Their suite was one of the most expensive ones in the casino. Hey, when you are the co-owner, that isn't a problem. But at the moment, they hardly noticed the luxury. They had tons of other things on their mind.

"This is the Lil Probe' Inn" CJ said, tapping a blue dot on the map of Las Venturas spread out on the table with his finger.

Cesar took a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. "That's way out in the desert. And what are those other dots?" he pointed at four dots of different colours: red, yellow, green and purple around the Lil Probe' Inn's blue dot.

"Those are the other inns and hotels. The Three Shepherds, The Blue Boar Inn, White Diamond and The Tea Cup" CJ replied. "These have come up only recently; they weren't there in '92" he added.

Cesar nodded. "So this guy, Jake Randall is staying in the Probe Inn. We have to get the report on Salvatore. Before he leaves for Liberty" he said. "You got a plan, Holmes?" he asked.

CJ frowned. "It's not gonna be easy. Don't forget, even Salvatore failed to kill him. We have the element of surprise, though..." he trailed off, thinking about that.

"Maybe one of us distracts him, and the other sneaks in and gets the report?" Cesar suggested.

"Nah" CJ replied. "He's got bodyguards too."

There was a moment of silence. Then CJ thumped the table with his palm, making Cesar jump. "What's it, Holmes?" he asked.

CJ got up and smiled. "Come on, we're going to meet a friend".

Woozie was in, which was a relief. CJ had been afraid he might be out on some work. A guy was standing outside his suite. "I want to me meet Woozie" CJ told him. The guy nodded and hurried inside.

"That guy looked like Chinese". Cesar said. "I'm guessing your friend Woozie is Chinese too".

"Yeah" CJ replied. "Chinese-American, actually" he added.

The doorman came out and smiled at them. "Mr. Wu is eager to meet you" he said. He ushered them into the living room of the suit. The floor was covered in a thick, velvet carpet so soft that they found their feet sinking in it. White curtains were partly drawn across the windows on the left, giving the room a dim and cosy feel. In the centre was a little wooden table, surrounded by plush-looking sofas. On the extreme right was a wooden chest-of-drawers, flanked by two bronze chinese dragons which spewed water from their open jaws into white basins at their feet. On the top of the chest were several little Chinese statues of marble and bronze. In one of the sofas sat Woozie. He must have heard them coming, because he straightened and greeted, "Hello, Carl".

CJ rushed forward and gave Woozie a hug. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "It's been ages since we met last. How you been doing?" he asked. Woozie was looking same as ever. He wore the same all-black suit, his black goggles. His black hair was neatly cut. It was the same, good old Woozie.

Woozie laughed. "Good to meet you too again, Carl" he said. "And yes, I've been doing quite well, thanks to your help". He paused, then asked, "Who's your friend, Carl?". He vaguely pointed in Cesar's direction, who was still standing, looking a bit uncomfortable.

Woozie might have been blind, but CJ had forgotten how sharp his other senses were. He must have heard Cesar.

"Um, yeah" he began. "Woozie, this is Cesar, my- my future brother-in-law". As soon as he said it, he felt a pang of anguish. Kendl needed him.

He turned to Cesar. "Cesar, this is Wu Zi Mu, or Woozie, as known among his friends. He's an old friend of mine. We have helped each other a lot".

"Pleased to meet you" Cesar said, extending his hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you too" Woozie returned. He neatly shook hands with Cesar. "Please, take a seat" he offered.

Even though he'd seen it many times, CJ couldn't help being amazed at Woozie's awesome echolocation. He'd shaken hands just like any normal person would. If Cesar noticed that he was blind, he didn't show any sign.

CJ decided to get to the point. "We've got a big problem, Woozie" he began, but Woozie cut him off. "Where are my manners?" he said. "What would you guys like to have?" he asked.

"Nothing" CJ said firmly. "We're full, Woozie. We got up late" he added.

"Yeah. Thanks, but we really don't want anything" Cesar put in.

But Woozie insisted on ordering some Chinese tea. "If you don't want anything else, fine. But you have to taste the Chinese Tea". They relented. "Now tell me all about your problem. I will try my best to help" Woozie said after ordering the tea.

"It started like this..." CJ began. He told him everything: the note; the kidnapper's call; CJ getting knocked out at the airport; their meeting with Salvatore; Jake Randall and the report. "I ain't directly going and killing him, because one: there isn't any need to kill him, we only need the report on Salvatore. Though Sal would very much like if I managed to kill him, I don't want to get into any more shit concerning the government. Believe me, I've had enough of that. Even as I sit and talk here, my lawyers are preparing to defend me against so many charges that may surface any time" he finished with a sigh. Both Cesar and Woozie knew about the various 'crimes' CJ had commited.

Woozie's face twisted with shock. "I know that sounds hollow, but I am very sorry about your sister". His tone was genuinely sympathetic.

CJ nodded. He knew Woozie was a guy whom he could trust with his life.

"So that's how things stand" Cesar said. He'd so far been quiet. "We've got to do Salvatore's job, or we'll never see -" he stopped abruptly, the sadness showing in his eyes. CJ knew what he had been about to say: 'or we'll never see Kendl again'. That won't happen, he thought to himself.

"We need your help in this, Woozie" he said. "We need the Mountain Cloud Boys".

"Mountain Cloud Boys? What are they?" Cesar asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Long story short, they're a street gang" Woozie answered. "And I'm their leader". He turned to CJ. "No problems there, Carl. We're at your service. You have our full cooperation".

"A'right, then" CJ said. "Let's - ". He was interrupted by a series of short bleeps.

Woozie reached into his pocked and pulled out a small black rectangular device. "Room service?" he said into it. "Yes, you may bring it". He put the device on the table and said: "It's the tea". The room service guy came, handed them small cups of steaming green coloured tea and left. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Carl. Go on". Woozie said.

"It's all right" CJ said and took a sip. The tea was good, with a sweet taste and a dash of mint, but he felt guilty. He was sitting here and enjoying himself while Kendl might be suffering somewhere, and god knew what was happening to Sweet. He glanced at Cesar and could tell he was feeling the same.

"So I was about to say we need to start acting right now. The more time passes, danger for Kendl increases. Salvatore says she's unharmed - as of now. If we let this Jake guy get away to LC with the dirt on Leone, we got no idea what he and his 'friend' - whoever that son of a bitch maybe, would do to Kendl. That's the case. And we need to act. Now." he finished.

"I will tear that motherfucker apart with my bare hands" Cesar swore.

"And the more I and Sean stay away from the Grove, the more vulnerable they become. I don't even know what's happening to them right now" CJ said, the helplessness in

his voice clear.

"Our first step is to find out when this guy leaves for LC. I understand we don't want to kill him, Carl?" Woozie asked.

"That's a big NO. I can easily kill him singlehandedly; but that's not the problem. This guy, as I understand from what Leone told me, is tied to both the LCPD and the LVPD, plus maybe the FBI. That's major shit, and considering my criminal record, it'll be suicide to kill him. Directly, of course..." CJ let the sentence hang in the air.

"I see what you're getting at, holmes. If he dies in an accident or something..." Cesar said, a bit of excitement creeping in his voice.

"We might get away" Woozie finished.

"Guys, let's not get ahead of ourselves" CJ cautioned them. He turned to Woozie. "Woozie, could you spare four of your boys today?" he asked.

"No problem" Woozie replied.

A smile crept across CJ's face. "And two all - black suits?" he asked.

"That's a strange request". Woozie had a puzzled expression on his face. "But it could be done, I guess. But why do you want black suits, Carl?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah, Holmes? What are you thinking of? A formal party?" Cesar asked, looking keenly at him, as if trying to pull the thoughts out of his mind.

CJ laughed. He had an idea - an idea that depended on a lot of things to succeed. But hey, it was something. He clapped Cesar on the shoulder and rose. "A party? No" he said. " Not the kind of party you're thinking of, bro. This is gonna be different. Our next destination: The Lil Probe' Inn" he said.

* * *

While CJ, Woozie and Cesar discussed their plans, the Casino functioned as usual. In the casino level, you couldn't tell wether it was night or day: because there were no windows. The level was lit up by artificial lighting, so it could be midnight or early morning for all one knew. The casino level was on the ground floor and had everything a casino has: poker tables, roulette, wheels - of - fortune, and the good old slot machines which were a hit with old ladies, who sat and fed nickel coins into them, in the hope that they would get lucky sometime. The restaurants were on the upper floor and the last level/floor/story had the suites and rooms.

Today the Casino was as crowded as usual, young people mostly around the Wheels - of - Fortune and blackjack tables. Important looking men in suits and other expensive dresses sat at the poker tables, dealers dealing out hands deftly.

A young man in blue jeans and a tattered black T-shirt entered, looking all around him, as if expecting an attack any moment. He couldn't have been more than twenty five. He had a mop of blond hair, green eyes and a scruffy beard. He had a wild look in his eyes and looked ready to kill someone.

The guy jogged over to one of the slot machines. The next moment he pulled out a knife, grabbed an old lady and stuck the knife at her throat. The old lady let out a little scream of terror. A lot of people screamed. Everyone backed away. "Let her go, you freak" somone yelled. "Nobody move" the blond guy growled. A couple of bouncers approached slowly, their right hand on the butt of guns in their pockets, debating on what to do.

"Carl Johnson!" he yelled. "Where is Carl Johnson? I'm here to kill him!". He waved his knife threateningly in the air and dug the point in the old lady's chin. The lady whimpered. He smiled evilly at the bouncers. He knew they wouldn't shoot as long as he kept the knife at her throat. "Show me Carl Johnson" he sneered. "Or this woman dies".

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys! I was caught up in school, exams and whatnot. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! You guys are amazing!

I'll try to upload the next chap as soon as possible. Iv got more exams coming up :(


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